The Neverland Wars

Chapter 15

Peter

DeWitt's doctors determine that I don't have a concussion but the fresh bruise on my forehead will serve as a reminder of today's events for a little while. They give me a fresh set of clothes to change into; nothing crazy, just a pair of slacks and a faded old shirt. It's not the most comfortable, but I'm glad to be out of my mission suit.

I meet up with Emma maybe an hour after we're separated, noticing that she's been given new clothes too. Her hair is pulled back into a top-knot, revealing a fresh abrasion on her temple: a reminder of the nightmare in the Footlight. One glance at her and I know we're both thinking the same thing: we've been down here for almost sixteen hours with absolutely no form of communication to Neverland. Seb has already probably informed Emma's father of our little discretion which means if we ever get out of here, we most likely have no home to return to. Either way, we're screwed.

Liam is tall for his age (fourteen) but skinny, reminding me of me from a time that feels much too long ago. He serves as our guide at supper time, helping us retrieve plates and silverware from the food line and making sure we get a helping of whatever is being served. It's more palatable than the tasteless, gray food from Neverland...but that isn't saying much. We eat dinner with DeWitt and the survivors around a fire in the center of their compound. Emma and I stick close to each other, not wanting to take up too much space in the already-tightly crammed compound.

"You were right," I murmur, pushing my food around on my plate. "About everything. DeWitt, Rapture, all of it."

"Right now seems like an inappropriate time to say I Told You So," she jests.

"It may be, but you'd still be right."

"Finding DeWitt was the easy part. Now he needs me to do something, in exchange for his help," she responds. "He needs me to find someone."

"Who?"

She reaches into the pocket of her pants and produces a photograph of a girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes. I study her childlike features, wracking my brain for any idea of who she might be. Unsurprisingly, I come up empty.

"His daughter?" I offer, to which she nods.

"His wife was killed and his children were taken when the Rapture Civil War started. He doesn't know where his son is, but thinks there's a lead to finding Elizabeth somewhere in Sander Cohen's quarters at The False Shepherd."

I blink at her. "Sander Cohen is at The False Shepherd?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" she smirks. "Apparently it's only where the Spliced Elite gather for lavish celebrations when Cohen returns from Wonderland."

"But they aren't exactly parties," Adrian, the taller, older boy from the Footlight sits on the other side of Emma. "They're more like art exhibits. Cohen usually has some sick, twisted grand masterpiece on display while everyone drinks and splices up."

It makes me uneasy that he was eavesdropping on our conversation and now he's sitting so close, but I can't blame him. We're the strangers on his turf. He has every right to want to keep a close eye on us. I try to shake off my paranoia and turn back to Em. "How do we get inside? It's not like we can just waltz in there."

She pockets the photograph of Elizabeth, pulling another document from her pocket instead. This one appears to be a letter, or invitation. I quickly scan it and find it's exactly that: an invitation to a party at Cohen's tomorrow night.

I hand the invitation back to her, raising an eyebrow. "Convenient. What even is this lead DeWitt is so fascinated by?"

"He doesn't know."